


If This Dog Could Talk

by tetley



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Dogs, F/F, Friendship, Romance, Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-10-16 20:14:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10578681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tetley/pseuds/tetley
Summary: Bob has found a new home, but he also likes the neighbour up the hill. Written for the 2016 ediction of HoggyWartyXmas





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cranky__crocus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cranky__crocus/gifts).



**Somewhere outside Hogsmeade, October 1999**

Wheee! Autumn was great!

Wasn't it fantastic to be outside when the wind ruffled one's fur? Wasn't it fabulous to be alive when one could dive headlong into heaps of rustling leaves and everything smelled moist and a little muddy, when there were puddles everywhere that one could roll in and come out looking like a scary Doberman (minus the ears perhaps)?

Ah, yes, autumn was great if one was a five-months-old Golden Retriever named Bob and lived with the Greatest Dog Trainer of all Times and Places, Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank.

And she clearly was that. This was the thing about Wilhelmina. She _taught_ one things. It was an entirely new experience for Bob, and it made him feel all grown-up and taken seriously. He hadn't had that with his first family. Not that they'd been evil to him, but they simply hadn't had much time. The children sometimes liked to play, which was nice, and Mum fed him good food, and they all allowed him on the sofa in the evenings. But nobody even really liked to walk with him.

It was so bad that almost every time he needed to go out, there was a quarrel in the house. In the end, Mum usually took him on a short walk to the nearby neighbourhood park, if she didn't just open the garden door because she was so busy. And Mum was often busy. He sometimes asked the children if they might take him, but their enthusiasm of the days when he'd first moved in was gone. All they ever liked to do was cuddle and throw balls. Nothing wrong with that, of course, but it wasn't exactly _all_ a dog was made for. Especially not one that had such potential. He wouldn't want to brag, of course, but he did have intellectual interests.

Words, for example. He knew a lot of them. And he was a good student of human behaviour. At the age of only three months, he'd had his family completely figured out. He knew how to look at them to obtain treats; he knew what sounds to make when he didn't want to be left home alone. Wilhelmina was more difficult in that regard, but that was all right, too. She was a born alpha, and those were _supposed_ not to give in every time.

Indeed, all things considered, the day Wilhelmina had come for a visit was probably the luckiest day in his life, even if it hadn't seemed so at first. After all, while Mum and the children and Dad weren't the most exciting people on earth, they'd been _his_ people, and that counted for something. But Wilhelmina had been easy to get used to. First, she'd taken him for walks, then he'd spent a day with her, then a day and a night, then a few days in a row, and at one point, he simply stayed. Soon, Dad was all but forgotten, followed quickly by the children. Mum's absence took longer to get used to, but the new surroundings helped with that, too.

There was simply so much to explore!

First of all, there was the house. Wilhelmina had a cottage that smelled of old stones and old timber. She had furniture made of shiny wood, and a creaky wooden floor, and rugs that smelled of ancient sheep. Behind the cottage lay a garden with a lawn and colourful flowers, leading all the way up to the forest. And then there were the the barn and the stables, and everything was full of animals to meet and study. The owl, for example, was someone to be wary of. She didn't like to play or be disturbed, and she had a beak and talons to bring across her point. Then again, as she usually slept in the attic, her preference for peace and quiet was something he could easily accommodate. As for Vita and Virginia (why did cats always have such daft names?), they were downright evil, but they spent most of their time prowling around or sleeping in the barn, so one could easily avoid them. The two unicorns that lived in a clearing in the forest were fascinating. They were so shiny and so dignified that he hadn't yet dared approach them, just looked and sniffed from a distance.

Among the animals, he liked the horses best. They didn't play with him, either, and one had to learn to avoid their hooves if one ran around them, but they were easy to get along with. They could run fast, so he could get a good exercise when he accompanied Wilhelmina on one of her rides. Also, whenever he felt like a little alone time, they allowed him to take a nap in their stable, on that lovely pile of straw in the corner. And finally, they made those wonderfully fragrant balls in which one could roll oneself and then smell like a big horse. Wilhelmina would growl when she saw that he'd done it, but he knew she was never _really_ angry. Usually, she just sighed and took him to the lake.

Bob made a mental note of the connection. After all, he liked going to the lake.

So, yes, Wilhelmina's cottage was great. The next best thing, though, was when she took him for a walk. Dear Dog, he never knew how much _world_ there was! There were the lake and the forest, there were the pastures and meadows where Wilhelmina went riding or did lessons with him, and then there was Hogsmeade!

Now, Hogsmeade was a fascinating place. For one, it was full of houses that one could visit. Each one smelled different, and each was occupied by a friendly human who almost always gave one a treat, at least if one was a dog. Two of those houses seemed to have especially generous owners, though, because almost every time they went in, Wilhelmina came out carrying a bag full of things. The lady in one of the houses gave her food (he liked this one best), and the man in the one next door gave her strange objects made of wood and metal that Bob figured were human-toys. They had to be, because Wilhelmina was really attached to them. At home, she often carried them around in a sort of leather harness around her waist, and then she would take one and hit it against a wall, or make holes into a piece of wood, or chop up said piece of wood entirely.

Strange, but then, he probably also sometimes did things humans found strange.

***

Today, however, they were neither going to Hogsmeade nor doing lessons. Instead, they took the path that went along the lake and then led up the gentle slope of a hill. He knew it well because they'd taken it often in the past few days.

At one point, they always arrived at a large, wooden gate that sprang open when Wilhelmina spoke a command. Well, of course it did. When Wilhelmina spoke a command, one did as one was told, whether one was a dog or a gate or a human-toy that lay buried somewhere deep inside a human-toy chest.

Bob was giddy already, for he knew that behind the gate lay the most beautiful dog-grounds in the known world. There was lots of grassland, and one could run up and down hills, and sometimes play with children or Mr Hogan, who was a Chihuahua and belonged to Hagrid. Hagrid was also a very nice human. An unusually _big_ human, but then, Mr Hogan was an unusually small dog, so they averaged out. Sometimes Mr Hogan preferred to stay home with Fang, Hagrid's other dog, who was already an elderly gentlemale. If that was the case, Bob simply did a few rounds by himself, perhaps dug up a molehill or three and inspected the pile of stones and wood and glass by the flowerbeds.

When he had enough of all that, he went back to Wilhelmina and Hagrid, who were usually busy hitting human-toys against wood or carrying stones and piling them up. Well, _Hagrid_ carried stones. Wilhelmina just took her favourite stick (of which she had an almost dog-like fondness) and ordered them to pile up. And wherever they were, there was always a blanket for him because the ground was getting clammy this time of year, plus a bowl of water. There he would lie down, perhaps chew on a toy or so for a while, and finally take a nap that was only ever interrupted if Minerva decided to join them for a chat, in which case Bob would open an eye and give a little grunt.

Minerva was strange, as far as humans went. For one, she was surrounded by a distinct aroma of cat. By the scent of her, she had to have at least five, which, in his books, was slightly overdoing it even for a woman. Also, she simply had no way with dogs. On their first meeting, she'd tried to pet him on the head. After that they'd decided not to take their relationship any further.

Well, there was no Minerva around today. No children, either. They were probably inside the big house on top of the hill. Bob had already figured out that it was a sort of child-kennel, and Minerva was the child-trainer. He wondered what command she taught them today.

But only briefly, and then he drifted off into sleep.

When he woke up, the sun had already begun to sink. "Come along, Boy!" Wilhelmina said. She had stowed her toy-harness into her bag, emptied out his water bowl, and seemed ready to go. Thus, along he went. Home lay in the other direction, but Bob wasn't worried. Wilhelmina always knew where they were going.

This time, they took the path that led behind the castle. Bob had never been there. At a distance, he saw a what looked like an agility course for children. Hooch was there and waved hello. He knew Hooch because she often came for visits. Today, however, she seemed to be busy. She, too, was hitting human-toys against bits of wood, and as was her wont, she was doing it somewhere up in the air, hovering on the sort of thing that Wilhelmina swept the stables with.

Next, they came to a very pretty cottage. It was made of rough stone, completely surrounded by flowers that grew in a small garden. The only bit that was strange about it was its roof, which was ball-shaped and looked as if it were one big window. Something long stuck out of it at a strange angle. It glinted in the sun and looked dangerous, but since Wilhelmina marched ahead with no sign of fear, Bob just lowered his tail a little for some extra safety and trailed along.

The more they approached, the nicer the house became. The flowers smelled fine, and there was a hedge on which one could test a skill one had recently observed with the big dogs. Unfortunately, one hadn't yet fully mastered it and had a tendency to keel over during the attempt.

Dratted momentum, Bob thought as he rolled over and picked himself up again.

Wilhelmina stopped in front of an iron gate.

"Anybody home?" she hollered as she opened it.

The door swung open, and out came a woman. Well, she _smelled_ like a woman, though Bob had never seen one with hair like that. It was more like Hagrid's than Wilhelmina's, or, say, Hooch's or even Minerva's. Dark and long and wavy, it was. She said hello and told them to come in, and Wilhelmina said hello, too. Apparently, her name was Sini.

Bob wanted to run towards her to offer his greetings, but an impulse jerked him back.

Wait!

 _That_ wasn't right!

He was back behind Wilhelmina in a flash, lying down behind the safety of a tall leather boot, flattening his ears to his head and giving a small bark just to be safe. He hoped that it sounded more assertive than he felt. Clearly, this was strange, and one didn't go near strange things. If you haven't seen something before and it doesn't smell like you can eat it, keep away, was his motto. It had always served him well, and he wasn't going to change strategies now.

Because this Sini woman had ... wheels!

For some reason, Wilhelmina did not seem to find that very scary. Quite in contrast, she actually approached the wheely woman. Well, he'd be over here covering her back from behind the leafless rosebush if it was all right.

Wilhelmina stretched out her hand and touched ... _it_ , he supposed. Wheels were cold, so they were things. It had to be a machine that the woman was sitting in, like Hooch, who rode around on a household appliance (a habit he'd had a hard time accepting until he found out that the thing tasted nicely of wood and straw.)

He gave a small, nervous huff. Nothing happened. Wilhelmina did not explode and was not eaten. In fact, she and the Sini woman were laughing. That was nice. Wilhelmina didn't laugh very often.

After a while, she looked at him and asked if he wanted to come closer.

Bob wasn't sure. He licked his nose, because that usually helped making up one's mind, and took a step.

Wilhelmina gave a small smile and reached into her pocket. Then she knelt down next to the wheely thing and took out a squeeze tube that he knew very well.

EasyTreat's liver paste for doggies! His favourite!

She spread some of it on a shiny part of the wheely thing that looked like a piece of armchair. This was getting interesting.

He decided that it might be safe to edge a little closer. Keeping his tummy and head close to the ground, he stretched out one front paw, pushed the chest forward, and let the tail end follow last. Nobody paid any attention to him. Okay. Now the other front paw, chest, rest of dog. Paw, chest, rest of dog. Right up to Wilhelmina's side.

"Good boy," she said.

Well, one could probably risk a lick of the liver paste.

And another one.

Yes, definitely safe.

He was beginning to like this wheely thing.

When he had finished it all off, he noticed the hand of the Sini woman. It was a bit like her voice, softer than Wilhelmina's, but surprisingly strong as he noticed when she began to tickle his flank. Much nicer than Hooch's, and definitely nicer than Minerva the child-trainer's. He rubbed his head into the palm of the Sini woman's hand and let her ruffle his ears.

Well, he supposed, if a woman could have hair like Hagrid, she could also have wheels.

***

A little while later, they were inside. Bob found that Sini's cottage was indeed very different from Wilhelmina's. For one, it smelled different. Newer, somehow. And where Wilhelmina had rugs and yet more rugs, Sini had nothing but shiny, wooden floor. Hers didn't creak, though, and it was smoother than Wilhelmina's. It felt nice under the paws. The only aspect he found it a little bothersome was that one's butt tended to slip away as one sat down.

Well, lying was more comfortable anyway.

First, however, he followed Sini and Wilhelmina to the kitchen.

Mmmmhhh ... this smelled even better than the rest of the house. Apparently, Sini liked food. There was a memory of chicken soup in the air, along with a whole variety of other scents.

Sini put a bowl of water on the floor for him, which he gratefully accepted. Then, as the humans resumed their talking, two more smells mingled in. One was tea, which he knew because Wilhelmina made it often, but the other was more bitter. It came from a thing on the stovetop that gurgled dangerously. He wanted to warn Sini, who was about to touch it, but she was too fast. Nothing happened, though, except that Sini poured the contents of the thing into a very small cup. Then she gave Wilhelmina a proper-sized one, and they all went into the living room.

The humans talked some more. Bob felt that he wasn't needed and thus went on a short inspection tour of the living room. Sini had a few interesting objects lying around, objects that Wilhelmina did not have. Over there by the bay window, through which one could see the children's agility course, there was a table, and on it lay all sorts of metal tubes, just like the one sticking out of the roof, only smaller. Also, human-toys like Wilhelmina's, only much, much smaller. Mostly, though, everything was cold and scent-less.

In front of the fireplace, there was a rug. It seemed to be the only one in the house, but dear Dog, _this_ one was nice and fluffy. Bob liked rugs. He sniffed it, found it to be a perfect nap location, and turned around a few times until he found just the right position to slump down.

When he woke up, Wilhelmina wasn't there. Sini was sitting at the table, playing with her human-toys and the metal tubes. She looked at him and pointed up the staircase. Ah, yes. There was a _toc-toc-toc_ that sounded all too familiar. He followed it, and indeed, there was Wilhelmina, with her toys and lots of wood and metal.

Ah, Bob really admired humans for their toy-skills. Granted, dogs were better at taking things apart, which was an admirable skill, too. But being able to put things together – one had to paw it to humans, it was quite astounding. Whatever this was she had just put together. It looked like a tiny porch, perhaps the size of a dog basket, sticking out of the wall of the staircase.

"There, done," Wilhelmina said, and got up. She flicked her stick at the mini-porch, and it began to move. Down the stairs, and back up.

Wow.

"Come along?" she asked as she stepped on the thing.

Erm ... no, thanks.

"All right," she said, and flicked her stick again. The porch hovered downstairs, and so did Wilhelmina. Bob waited until she stepped off it before he cantered down the stairs himself.

Sini was already waiting for them, her face radiating happiness. Wilhelmina stepped aside, and then it was Sini's turn. She flicked her stick at the thing, whereupon another wooden board appeared. It looked rather like the plank that Wilhelmina put up when he was supposed to go on the back of the carriage, and it seemed to fulfill the same purpose. Sini rolled up, and when she was on the platform, the board pulled itself up so he couldn't see her any more. A moment later, though, she was upstairs, rolled off the thing, and squeaked with joy. Wilhelmina beamed.

When Sini was back downstairs, she gave Wilhelmina a hug, and Wilhelmina beamed even more.

Then Bob noticed how Wilhelmina readied herself to leave. He knew that way in which she stretched her spine and said: "All right then." Whenever she said that, next thing, they were usually out in some street.

Oh, no! Did they have to? The sun had already set! Didn't humans _eat_ at this time of the day, rather than take long walks? Not that he minded walking, of course, but, well, Sini obviously liked to make food, and she was nice, so maybe she would share. And then Wilhelmina could laugh some more, and perhaps there might even be a bite for him, Bob, in the end? He decided to try the "hungry puppy" look. It never worked on Wilhelmina, but maybe Sini had more sense.

In fact, she did. Sini hadn't even looked at him, but she'd probably caught his vibes or something because she said a word to Wilhelmina that he recognised. "Stay," it was. Wilhelmina didn't do it right, because she moved, but the upshot of it was, they didn't go home. Instead, they all went back into the kitchen, and Wilhelmina sat down at the table while Sini rolled towards a door in the wall.

Why, _this_ was where all the wonderful smells had come from!

It was the door to paradise. Paradise, in this case, was a small room, quite cool and so narrow that there was no space for a dog once Sini was inside. Still, Bob managed to take a peak. And, even better, a sniff. There was a ham hanging from the ceiling. Over there he smelled fragrant cheese – _very_ fragrant cheese indeed. There were some of the plants that humans liked to eat, and tins and jars that looked interesting but didn't smell like much – and were those beefsteaks hanging behind the door of a cabinet that had just opened?

Indeed, they were, and Sini seemed to have heard his prayers. She flicked her stick, and two steaks flew towards her, followed by a whole variety of other foodstuffs: mushrooms (he didn't care for those), onions, a chunk of cheese, tomatoes, and a plant that Bob had never seen but that looked like a squeeze toy. Then she scooped some grains out of a large tin into a small bowl, and plucked a few twigs from a plant on the windowsill.

When she had all those things in her lap, her eyes went to a shelf right next to her. She stared at it for a while, then pointed her stick at a green bottle and sent it all the way across the kitchen to where Wilhelmina was sitting. Sini gestured at a cupboard, from which Wilhelmina took yet another tool, and the bottle opened with a loud _plop_.

Bob lay down by Wilhelmina's feet and felt thoroughly happy. Not so much because of the possibility of food in his near future (after all, one never knew for sure if one would get a bite off the human table), but because the humans were happy. He could sense it, even though their voices had died down. For all the talking that had gone on before, there was silence now, apart from the chop-chop-chop above him and by the counter, where Sini was busy with the mushrooms and onions.

Not many humans liked silence, but Wilhelmina did, and apparently, Sini didn't mind it, either. They were both relaxed, which wasn't always the case when humans were quiet. It suited him well, because while excitement was, well, _exciting_ , a dog also needed his or her peace and quiet.

And one sure had that with Wilhelmina. Wilhelmina liked being alone. Well, of course she always had someone of a different species around herself, be it a sick owl or an injured parakeet, or a dog who came for a visit because his or her human was busy. However, most of the time, she was perfectly fine without other humans around her.

In the evenings, she liked sitting in the garden with a pipe, or stretching out on the leather sofa by the fireplace, reading a paper or listening to music that came out of a strange thing with a trumpet attached. He'd sat in front of it many times and looked inside to find out where the music came from, but to no avail. Anyway, he liked it, mysterious though it was. The tunes were melodic and even, and very nice to fall asleep to.

Sometimes, Wilhelmina also taught him words or tended to someone's sick pet. Sometimes she read a book (he knew what books were; he'd already eaten two). And while she wasn't always quite as happy as on this afternoon with Sini, happy she was. Comfortable and at peace. Which was good.

Still, Bob sometimes thought that it might be nice for Wilhelmina to have a human companion. One who wasn't always around, perhaps, and who left her in peace when she needed it, but who could share happy moments or food with her, or comfort her when she was sad. Because that happened, too. Not often, but sometimes. Especially when Susan had been there during the day.

Now, Susan was lovely. She was a terrific rider, like Wilhelmina. At first Bob had thought that perhaps she was Wilhelmina's pup. But then, he found it unlikely that Wilhelmina had pups of her own. He didn't know, but he just somehow couldn't picture Wilhelmina lying in a basket and lactating a litter. And with what, anyway? For all he could tell, she didn't even have teats. She was tall and flat, almost like a human male (well, unless one counted Hagrid or Neville, who weren't flat, or Filius who wasn't tall.) That said, there certainly was something mother-like about Wilhelmina when Susan was there. Or maybe father-like, for human males apparently cared for their litters, too (ah, they _were_ difficult to sort, those humans.) They must have known each other a long time, and they liked each other a lot.

Yet often, when Susan was gone, there came the sadness. Then Wilhelmina would go out into the garden, to a large, polished stone by a rosebush, where Susan sometimes put fresh flowers, and then she would sit down on a bench, talking to nobody in particular, in a voice that he rarely heard her use.

And then, after a while, she would get up, lay her hand on the stone for a moment, and go off to do her chores, as she always did.

***

Up at Sini's cottage, night had long fallen when Wilhelmina said goodbye. She and Sini had had a dinner the like of which Bob had never experienced. It took them forever until they were finished and finally let him participate in some of the leftovers. Those, however, were also unlike anything Bob had ever had. There was creamy rice with cheese (they'd been thoughtful enough spare him the mushrooms), and afterwards, he got a piece of the most delicious grilled beefsteak with a few plants that he didn't mind because they, too, had been grilled and tasted of beef. The humans had meanwhile finished off the green bottle, and Bob had the impression that the contents had made them a little warmer.

When Wilhelmina put on her cloak and hat, Sini held out her hands, and Wilhelmina took them. Sini said a few things, of which Bob only caught one bit. "Come back." He thought it a bit funny, since Wilhelmina was already right there and thus didn't need to come back, but it was said in such a warm voice that Bob was sure she'd remember it when she was away and then do it. And if she did, he, Bob, would go with her.

He approached Sini for his goodbyes, and off they went into the night.

***

Indeed, Wilhelmina did come back. The first time took her a while (too long if one asked him), but after that, she soon picked up the habit. From then on, every time they entered the Hogwarts grounds, Bob had to wag his tail so hard that Wilhelmina said "ouch." Well, her fault for having her legs in the way. And he couldn't help it. It was simply because he knew that whatever they were going to do first (whether it was hitting human-toys on the children's agility course with Hooch, or piling up stones with Hagrid, or quarreling and having tea with Minerva), at the end of the day chances were he'd be lying under Sini's dinner table, and there'd be pasta or creamy rice, minced meat or fish, or, best of all, pasta _and_ minced meat followed by fish.

Not always, but sometimes, the humans opened another green bottle, or a brown one, in which case the liquid was darker. After dinner, they would move to the living room, where Wilhelmina sat down in an armchair by the fireplace, sometimes smoking a pipe, and Sini lay on the couch. There they talked, sometimes seriously, sometimes with laughs in between. Sometimes Sini would hold a big piece of paper while she talked, and Wilhelmina would listen with interest, and then they would talk again.

On a few occasions, Sini also came to visit them in Hogsmeade. Once she came down in a different wheely thing than usual, one with an extra wheel in front, and boy, was she _fast_ with it. That day, Wilhelmina needed a horse to keep up with the two of them. They rolled, ran, and trotted all the way to Hogsmeade, where Rosmerta brought out hot tea for the humans and a bowl of water for him, and then they returned to the cottage after the humans had bought human-treats from Bathsheba's Best Buns.

At home, it was then Wilhelmina who cooked dinner for the humans. From the tidbits that ended up in his bowl afterwards, he could tell that she had made a real effort. Why, he'd never even thought she had it in her! Once she made a pot roast, once something with kidney (which he loved!), and two or three times there was something sauce-like he didn't care for because it was mostly made of plants and smelled entirely too sharp. The humans, though, seemed to love it.

And then, one crisp, cold night when the leaves had already fallen off the trees, they all went up to Sini's window-roof. Now, this was interesting, if a bit puzzling. Bob had tagged along, of course, but frankly, he had no clue why they should be up there when downstairs there were warmth and light and a fluffy rug. The humans, however, seemed to judge the situation differently. They put their faces against the big, scary metal tube – first Sini, then Wilhelmina – and apparently found that as captivating as he found molehills, for they seemed to stay like that forever.

What _he_ found more captivating that night was what had happened just as Sini had moved away from the tube and Wilhelmina drew up a chair to sit down. For the briefest moment, Sini had put her hand on Wilhelmina's back. It was just a small gesture, and the humans didn't even look at each other and instead kept their eyes glued to the sky, but Bob wouldn't be fooled. Wilhelmina turned all warm for a moment, and something had changed about her scent just the tiniest bit. Also, if he wasn't mistaken, Sini was smiling in the dark.

It was a bonding moment if there had ever been one!

When they said their goodbyes that night, Sini cuddled him thoroughly and then put her arms around Wilhelmina. Now, Wilhelmina didn't usually like this sort of things. When Rosmerta did that greeting routine with the two smacking sounds on the cheek, Wilhelmina's spine stiffened just this much, and when Hooch threw an arm around her, as sometimes happened, Wilhelmina usually contented herself with two gentle pats on the back. This, however, was different. And Sini ... well, Bob could certainly be wrong, but did she get a little _excited_ when Wilhelmina put her arms around her as well?

It was during these days in late autumn that Bob began to wonder if they shouldn't just all form a pack. It would make such sense. Sini didn't seem to have a companion, either. She was her own alpha, like Wilhelmina, and she, too, had a sad side. He knew it from the way she sometimes spoke late at night when the humans sat by the fireplace, looking at the flames and talking in very quiet voices. And once, when he stayed with Sini for a few days because Wilhelmina had to go away without him, he noticed on the first night that Sini somehow seemed reluctant to go to bed, as if she were afraid of sleeping. Unfathomable for a dog, but then, Sini wasn't a dog. And when she did finally go to sleep and Bob curled up by the foot of the bed, he noticed that Sini still didn't fall asleep. Only when he heard his name being whispered and lay down by the bedside table so that she could reach down, and when she'd crawled his ears for a while, did her breaths grow more regular, until the hand went back up again and all he heard was light snores.

Yes, it would be so good for all of them if he and Wilhelmina and Sini could simply become a pack. With Wilhelmina, one was always safe during the night, and with Sini, Wilhelmina would never miss a meal when she'd been out with her toys for too long. As for him, Bob, he so liked that sweet scent they gave off when they were together.

It clearly was a win-win-win situation. Now, if only he could tell the humans somehow.

***

**Hogsmeade, December 1999**

Why, if autumn was great, winter was even greater!

Where in the world had one ever heard of balls that one could make out of fluffy stuff lying around? Okay, they had the annoying habit of disappearing once one had caught them, but the humans could always make more, and more, and more of them!

Besides, that stuff! Snow, he knew, it was called. It had come out of nowhere one morning, and kept falling and falling, until there was so much outside that it covered the entire ground. If one found a heap that was big enough, one could even dive right into it.

Meanwhile, Wilhelmina had exchanged the carriage with wheels for one that could glide on snow. She had also put tiny bells on the horses, which he found just a little overkill, but then, she was the alpha, thus she made the rules. As long as _he_ didn't have to wear one. Otherwise, the snow-carriage was just like the other one, except that there was a heap of blankets in the back now, into which he could crawl when it was cold or snowing and he didn't want the fluffy stuff to pile up on him. That was nice.

They tested the whole setup on a trip to Hogsmeade one morning. Hogsmeade looked changed, too, now. For one, there was snow everywhere, in the streets and on the roofs and the branches of the fir trees. It made everything look different, and sound and smell different, too. Plus, there were children all around. And by that, he meant _all_ around! At first, he thought it fun, but soon, he found that there were simply too many for his taste. Wilhelmina seemed to notice that. She took him on the leash and kept him close to her side. That helped.

Then they went to the food lady, whose house had changed as well. The spicy scent in the air wasn't his bowl of water, but the sweet stuff, oh, the sweet stuff! Everywhere, there were baskets and barrels full of small and shiny objects that looked and smelled forbidden (but delicious), and it seemed that today she had even more hams dangling from the ceiling than usually. Wilhelmina also bought different things today than she usually did. In the end, she carried out a big basket full of small bags that smelled sweet and fruity, apples and nuts, and two paper parcels that smelled of nothing in particular. Also, a bottle.

Back at the cottage, Wilhelmina went to the kitchen and poured some of the contents of the bottle over the fruity things. Dear Dog, what a smell! But then, Wilhelmina didn't like it when he rolled himself in horse-made balls. Humans and dogs simply had different tastes in some matters. Of course, human tastes were strange while doggie tastes were reasonable, but one had to be tolerant if one lived together. Especially if one wasn't the alpha.

When Wilhelmina was done, she lit the fireplace and sat down on the couch with a pipe, while Bob took a nap. He didn't know for how long they'd done this, but at some point, he heard a voice.

"Anybody home?"

Bob was up in a flash, wagging his tail and giving a bark.

Wilhelmina got up and opened the door, and Bob darted out to do the greetings. Sini was on one of those sweepy-thingies that Hooch often rode around on, only hers was a little bigger and she was sitting on it differently. She said hello to him and then hovered over to Wilhelmina. Bob was told to sit down, which was probably for the better because what happened now was about as strange a thing as he'd ever seen (and, mind, he'd seen a lot.)

Sini opened her bag and took out a small object. It looked like a toy. She hovered down, set it on the path in front of Wilhelmina's door, and then pointed her stick at it. She spoke a command, and _WHOOSH_ – there was the wheelchair (he'd learned that word by now).

Bob just sighed. Did humans _always_ have to do strange things?

Sini untied the leashes around her legs and hips, changed seats, and came in for a cup of bitter stuff, while Wilhelmina had tea. Then Wilhelmina put on her shoes and boiled wool cloak and the hat with that irritating pheasant feather on top, and Sini got into her soft, purple coat that smelled of geese. She also got back into the seat of the ... broom, he supposed, was the word.

Oh, it was fun outside! Wilhelmina threw snowballs for him, and Sini could do a great trick. She tilted her broom just a little and swept up snow, and thus made it look as if she were a rabbit fleeing from him. Then Wilhelmina did a trick of her own. She made a snowball and then rolled it in more snow, and yet more snow, until it was a very _big_ snowball. Then she made two more, of different sizes, and piled them up into a snowball-tower. Meanwhile, Sini collected sticks and pinecones and fetched straw from the stable, plus an old rag, and soon, the snowball-tower looked like a snowball-tower with a human face. Wilhelmina added two more snowballs to the front of the middle ball, and then they nodded in satisfaction. It was a real piece of art. They called it Minerva.

***

Back inside, Bob shook himself. Dear Dog, he hadn't even noticed how cold it had been. He went straight to the rug in front of the fireplace to let the warmth dry his fur. The humans had some cake that Sini had brought in her bag (it looked impressive, with a top almost like Sini's roof, dusted with something that looked like snow), and later, a hot drink that smelled like something out of Sini's brown bottles, only spicier.

Then Wilhelmina sat down on the sofa with a book, while Sini opened her bag. Bob wasn't even surprised any more when she took a sizeable human-toy box out of it. She rolled over to a table, switched on a lamp because it was slowly getting dusky outside, and busied herself with Wilhelmina's old grandmother clock. He knew what it was because Wilhelmina had often spoken to Susan and Hooch about it, and they'd inspected it often. Bob didn't know why because it seemed just fine to him. In the early days when he'd just moved in, it had given off this annoying, ticking sound, but that problem had somehow taken care of itself.

Well, in any case, Sini took it apart with her human-toys, while Wilhelmina looked into the book and spoke while she did, in a quiet voice. He lay there and tapped his tail on the floor because it was all so nice and warm and relaxed around him.

He must have dozed off, for the next thing he noticed was that Sini had put the clock back together, and Wilhelmina had finished talking. Sini, apparently, was not as good as Wilhelmina at fixing things, for there was that ticking sound again. However, Wilhelmina wasn't angry.

"Come along, Boy", she called. The humans were already putting on their coats again, ready to leave. Sini mounted her broom, stuffing the wheelchair into her bag. Then they all went outside, and Wilhelmina fetched the snow-carriage.

Up on the back, Bob crawled inside his heap of blankets, letting just his head stick out. The tinkling didn't even sound so bad if it was dark, and there was something nicely calming about it that went well with the even rhythm of the trots.

Through half-closed eyes, he saw the humans on the coachman's seat. They were sitting close to each other, which made sense because it was cold. Apparently, up there, it was getting colder still, for it seemed that after every corner they took, they were sitting yet a little closer to each other.

The Hogwarts gate opened with a creaking sound. Everything was quiet on the grounds, and strangely bright even though night had long fallen. The moon was shining, and the snow was glistening. At some point, Sini pointed at something in the sky, and Wilhelmina looked up as well.

Slowly, very slowly, the horses trotted on. And as they did, and turned around the bend by the children's agility course, Bob saw that Sini had laid her head on Wilhelmina's shoulder. Then, a few horse-tinkles later, Wilhelmina's arm wrapped itself around Sini's waist. Thus they drove on, very slowly, right up to Sini's cottage.

The horses stopped, and Bob jumped out of his heap of blankets, waiting for the plank to appear.

Nothing happened. The humans just sat there, head against shoulder, arm around waist.

And then they turned to face each other. They looked into each other's eyes, but Bob wasn't worried because he knew that humans often meant that nicely.

Their faces moved closer, and closer yet.

Then their lips touched.

And just stayed that way.

For _ever_.

Bob was getting giddy. Wilhelmina and Sini were clearly enjoying this, much more than being out in the sun or eating Sini's food. He'd sat down, but his butt somehow began to lift itself and his paw wanted to move. He couldn't help himself, he'd so love to be a part of what they were sharing there. Yet from his place in the back, he couldn't reach them, and he didn't dare jump onto the coachman's seat. Thus, he just sat there and watched, hoping they might feel his eyes in their backs and perhaps reveal what seemed so delicious.

They didn't.

After a long while, their lips un-touched again, and first Wilhelmina said something, and then Sini did. She smiled and climbed onto her broom. Hovering next to the carriage, she slung an arm around Wilhelmina's neck once more, and Wilhelmina put her lips on Sini's.

At last, Sini disappeared in the cottage. Wilhelmina turned the carriage around and drove them back home, humming to herself as she did.

***

Over the next days, Wilhelmina and Sini did not see each other. Instead, Wilhelmina went to Hagrid's in the mornings. Hagrid was sick, but Wilhelmina didn't need to tend to him because he was human. She did, however, take Fang and Mr Hogan for a walk, and then she trained children until they all were hungry. Bob stayed with Hagrid, while Wilhelmina went up to the big house, then she came back and fed Hagrid's animals, cleaned a few cages, and checked on an injured ferret. Afterwards, more children came, and Wilhelmina was busy until sunset.

The first time they readied themselves to go, Bob was surprised to find that it wasn't towards Sini's cottage. Then, however, he saw the children that had just trained with Wilhelmina. They were walking up the hill, and then up the stairs outside Sini's cottage that led right up to the window-roof.

Yes, that made sense. All grown-up humans were child-trainers up there, so Sini had to be one as well. Perhaps she taught them how to clean metal tubes. That way the children could make themselves useful, like Golden Retrievers, who were, among other things, very useful forest-cleaners and squeezy-toy-bringers.

The only time Bob heard Sini's voice during these days was in the evenings, when a shiny, silvery falcon (that didn't smell like one) came flying through the wall of Wilhelmina's cottage (no, really), sat down on the backrest of the couch, and said something in Sini's voice. It made Bob a little nervous, and the first time it happened he had to look behind all the chairs and cupboards to see if Sini had perhaps hidden there. Wilhelmina, however, just gave the small smile, as she often did when she was happy, and finished her pipe. After that, she got up, sat down by the table, and took a feather and paper. She folded up the paper, called Cassiopeia the Owl, and sent her out into the night.

***

Then, after a few days, Sini was back at the cottage.

It was a sunny day, and they were all headed for the forest, in the snow-carriage of course. When they arrived at a clearing, Wilhelmina tied the horses to a tree, while Sini changed over to the broom. Then they all headed down the forest path, and Bob rearranged a few branches and twigs and watered a few trees. He was getting better at the grown-up way of doing it.

At one point, though, Wilhelmina and Sini left the path and veered off into the underbrush. They inspected a fir tree, then another one, and then a spruce. Finally, when they saw a Norway spruce about the size of Wilhelmina, they both stopped, looked at each other, and smiled. Apparently, this was what they'd been looking for. Wilhelmina took out a very big human-toy, and a few moments later, the tree lay on its side. Pity, actually. Then she retrieved a piece of rope out of her pocket and tied one end around the stem of the tree, while Sini tied the other end to her broom. When that was done, Sini hovered ahead, in the direction of the path, carefully choosing a course without underbrush so the tree wouldn't be harmed. Wilhelmina trailed behind her, and Bob, who was faster, zigzagged around the trees and waited for them on the path.

When they had returned to the carriage, Wilhelmina flung the tree onto the back, put up the plank so Bob could lie down in his blankets, and when all were safely on board, she clicked her tongue, and the horses set themselves in motion.

At home, Wilhelmina went to the stables to put the horses and carriage away, while Sini busied herself in the kitchen. She exchanged the water in his bowl and then started making tea. When that was done, she put the tea-things on the coffee table by the fireplace and slumped down on the leather couch.

"Oof," she said. Apparently, long-distance hovering while pulling trees was hard work. She was satisfied, though. Ah, he knew exactly how that felt. It was good to take a rest after having done one's bit to keep the forest in order.

Then there was a noise on the doorstep. It was Wilhelmina, carrying the tree and a round object that looked a bit like a trap for small animals. She put the trap-thing on the floor, knelt down, and held the tree in one hand.

That is, until it fell over.

Sini laughed and took her stick, pointing it at the tree so it hovered straight above the floor. Indeed, a wink later, Wilhelmina had trapped its stem inside the trap, and the tree stood.

Aparrently, though, it wasn't right, for Sini looked at it, cocked her head, and then shook it.

Wilhelmina sighed, knelt down again and wiggled the stem. Then she looked up expectantly.

Sini shook her head again.

Wilhelmina wiggled a little more, looked at Sini, who again shook her head.

With a groan, Wilhelmina bent her knees.

When all was done and Sini approved, Wilhelmina stood up, her hand in the small of her back. Bob half expected her to creak as she stretched, but she only groaned once more.

"Come here," Sini said, and held out her hand.

Oooh, he knew what she was going to do! Wilhelmina had done it with him once, when he had first moved in and was feeling a little tense now and then. It was really comforting, and it made everything bad go away. Well, except hunger. And owl smell. But other than that, everything.

Sini began to run her fingers along Wilhelmina's spine, in small, circular movements that made Bob feel all relaxed just from watching them. Then she rubbed her hands over Wilhelmina's back and along her shoulders, over and over again. Those were hard spots with humans, he knew. Probably had something to do with this upright walking business. In any case, Wilhelmina thoroughly enjoyed herself, so much that she groaned again. Only this time, it clearly was with pleasure.

After a while, Sini told Wilhelmina to get off the sofa and lie down on her tummy on the rug by the fireplace. Sini herself sat down next to her and continued the rubbing.

All was quiet.

Now, this gave Bob a great idea. The whole scene was so cosy, but wouldn't it be even cosier if he joined them as well? He decided it would, and went to Wilhelmina and flopped down on his side, the whole of his back touching Wilhelmina's flank.

Ah, there was just nothing like bonding while lying together. After a while, he felt Wilhelmina's hand tickling his tummy, while Sini continued to run her hands over Wilhelmina's back. Or so he presumed from the sounds that came out of Wilhelmina.

He was getting distinctly drowsy and felt a happy slumber coming over him.

Until Wilhelmina moved.

Bob gave a small grunt and edged away few paws' lengths. One wasn't supposed to move when one's dog was about to fall asleep. He'd taught Wilhelmina that long ago, but she momentarily seemed to have forgotten.

Eyeing her from the side, he saw that Wilhelmina had turned on her back. Sini was still bending over her, but Wilhelmina's hand reached up and ... ah, now he got it! They were about to do the lip thing again.

Indeed they did. Oh, did they ever. They sounded even happier than last time, perhaps because now they were also touching each other's hair, running their hands along each other's flanks and necks and soft bits, doing what apparently all living beings enjoyed. Well, except perhaps owls. And probably cats. But cats didn't count.

This time, Bob decided that he would try his luck. Of course, it was the mother of all insubordinations, but if something seemed _this_ delicious ...

He got up all quietly, sat down next to them, and looked.

After all, subtle often did the trick.

This time, though, it didn't. They didn't even look up. In fact, they seemed completely absorbed, and now even their tongues were touching each other. Thus, he decided to go for it. He got up, snuck yet a little closer, and brought his nose right up to where their lips met.

And then Sini chuckled, and then Wilhelmina chuckled, and soon, both humans were sitting upright, laughing, each ruffling one of his ears with the arm they didn't still have around the other.

The delicious scent was gone.

Then Sini whispered something into Wilhelmina's ear. Wilhelmina looked at Sini, who nodded and whispered some more, and Wilhelmina gave that tiny smile again and reached for her stick, which was lying on the coffee table.

"Bob, go to your basket."

All right. He was tired anyway. He complied, while Wilhelmina took her stick firmly into her hand, then slid one arm under Sini's knees and one behind her back. Predictably, there was the lip thing again.

Then she picked Sini up just like that, and off they were, to Wilhelmina's bedroom.

Bob approved. They were all tired after a day like this, and it made sense for Sini and Wilhelmina to share a basket. It was so much more comfortable and warm like that if it was winter and one didn't have fur, and one slept so much better.

The humans seemed to think so, too, for soon, all was quiet in the bedroom.

Or rather, it was quiet for a _while_. Because after some time, Bob started hearing sounds again, much like the ones he had heard them make by the fireplace.

At some point, the sounds grew ... not louder, perhaps, but more intense. And then louder. Why, perhaps they _were_ asleep, for some of the sounds almost sounded like Mr Hogan when he chased rabbits in his dreams. Well, not quite, but almost.

However, Bob was already far too drowsy to think much about it. All he knew was that life was pleasant, that tomorrow would be another day of snow and walks, of food and frolicking and learning, and that indeed, his instincts had not failed him. His favourite human and his second favourite human and he, Bob, were indeed a pack.

And that was good, because nothing bad could happen to a dog if he had a pack.

Thus, with a very satisfied sigh, Bob the Golden Retriever fell asleep.

***


End file.
